**So far as people could remember, there had only ever been one or two Rodera seen in the Heartlands. It was, therefore something of a peculiarity to find one appearing in Dvarni. He wandered through the streets as though he knew vaguely where he was going. A patrol had attempted to seize him, but seemed unable to lay hands upon him.**

**The Rodera reached the gates to Erathil's palace, and spoke to the guard:**

I wish an audience with the Phoenix King. Urgently. In fact, I do not think it possible to stress just how urgent this is...

My Lord, as you must be aware, the land of Noore I'Meles is on the brink. Our story is not far removed from that of Arnad Guarhoth, and the fate of the Underdwellers there. The earth itself is poisoned. Crops failed. Water is toxic. We are starving. We are dying.

The Soulless are massing, and sweep across the land. Our defenses are crude, but have thus far held: the Orcs have all but abandoned the Rodera, and collapsed their tunnels around the township. The township now stands as a sort of inland island. As far as we are aware, neither the Soulless nor the Glooms are adept at scaling cliffs...

We can defend ourselves a little at present from the small groups of undead that have made it up, but we can't go on like this. We have been drilling as deep as we dare for clean water, and established a small purified spring; but this will not last forever. Still, no crops grow, and our grain reserves are toxic. We survive on our cache of preserved meat and fruit, or the occasional vulture. We will not resort to Sylas's ploy of making nothing taste of something...

The Orcs have continued to dig deep, placing their Sentinel within the deepest tunnels, almost a mile down. At present his protective dome appears to be holding, but it will not be long before it falls. When that happens, we will have but a few minutes to stage some form of evacuation before our fate becomes the same as so many of the people of this world.

Warryn marched into the Antechamber, he looked a little worse for wear; his skin was cracked and he favoured his left leg a little too much to be healthy.

You want help. Either a place to stay and evacuate to, or an army. We have neither fit for your purpose. The army is currently in mobilisation, conscription has begun, but I am still facing the Soulless, remnants of the cult of Eremine, what is left of the Pure Shard, and then the Glooms. We have just signed a treaty with the humans, and we are not eager to add another fight to our list of things to do. We also don't have the room to keep you.

I'm not saying this to hurt you, friend. Just to explain that things may not seem dire here, but they are. I may personally be able to leave and help you defend your dome. But unless we find a way to weaken and defeat the Soulless then the Army would be barely a distraction to them. Find me a way to destroy them all and you will have the weight of the Elven nation behind you. But throwing elven blood at the problem will not solve it, no matter how royal.

He gave what he thought was a sympathetic smile... it looked like an awkward grimace.

"Brother, I am pleased to see you, I assume your duel went well but I suggest you have the medics examine you. I know you are concerned about Elven lives but perhaps before we refuse assistance, we should see whether the councillor has a specific request, perhaps even an offer in return."

Warryn smiles at his brother but it seems impossible to tell whether it is happy or resigned. He did not bow or kneel.

Medics? Pah!

He slammed his shield into his forehead, his skin began to glow as Earth magic flared it's light brown light, bursting from his wounds. Just as they seemed to close sparks of lightning crackled between the torn diamond skin causing the elf some discomfort.

Of course we will listen Brother, I didn't mean to talk above my station, I just don't want Farrek here to overestimate what we actually have to offer. Speaking of...

He handed a scroll to Erathil, it was neatly written, so clearly by someone else's hand and it had the words 'registration' on it.

Warryn then sat on the floor cross legged, he did so for aslong as it was polite and then lay down on the stone floor. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the politicians talk.

"I would be a fool not to listen to the counsel of my most senior general not to mention that of my older brother. We will offer what assistance we can but not at the expense of Elven lives or indeed quality of life.

Warryn chuckled that Erathil had put 'quality of life' side by side with elven existence. It seemed to fit.

You don't need to compliment me Brother. You are in command, and I know I am not replaceable.

He sat up, propping himself up with his arms.

My feud with Aquilla, Crown Prince of the Storm Elves and Hero of Velmaneth is over. I have forgiven him. I think I actually understand him better. That said, Tempy... sorry...Temporil won't be happy. I think the idiot would have me march on the crashed relic realm just so he could stick a blue flag on it. Sorry, this isn't what we are here for. Farrek, please continue...

"I compliment and criticise where is deserved. You may be replaceable as a general but not as a brother. Erathil may not have listened to his brothers but the Phoenix does because I never wish to stand against any of you again."

**The sounds of signal bells could be heard ringing slowly in the distance and within moments a courtier arrived, murmuring a report to Erathil who nodded, a grave expression upon his Elven features before replying**

"Go to the Font of Knowledge, find D'arvan. Tell him to ensure that everything we have, scrolls, trinkets, weapons, potions are distributed amongst the troops. Let nothing be held back. Tell him they have an hour to produce a solution to the current situation otherwise they are to scry for an evacuation site.**

**The man turns and leaves hurriedly and Erathil turns back to his brother**

"Brother, send messengers to Flash, Temporil, River...Kazrazil is not within the Heartlands currently but I will send word to him...the Soulless have breached the Heartlands dome. I want the Coshwoods to be seen by all, giving orders, delegating work, fighting alongside those who have been conscripted not hidden behind the battlelines. Mobilise the army and the militia, I want every fighting man out there, evacuate the civilians to the palace. Bring order to this chaos."

**He turns to the Roderan**

"It seems councillor that the Elves may be unable to offer assistance after all. I am afraid I have matters to attend to."